Smiley Baby

So, I took Marley to get her 6 month pictures (which are actually her 7 month pictures now) taken yesterday. Much to my surprise, it was easier than I thought it would be and a lot less stressful than I expected. She loved every minute of it. I was a little skeptical at first because, when she looked at the girl that was going to be taking the pictures, she just stared at her with this, "Who are you and what the heck do you want from me?" look that I could only pray would not mean that the moment I set her down she would start screeching like a banshee. Fortunately for everyone involved, however, she lit up as soon as she saw the first flash.

That being said... she loves the camera. A little too much, I think. I mean, seriously, this child did not stop smiling the entire time. Now, once the picture taking was done, that was an entirely different story. She didn't want to be put down, so I had to carry her all over Babies R Us, pushing the cart with all our stuff in it, while we waited for the girl to print the pictures. I find it hilarious, her night/day transformation. It's as if she was born to be an actress. Now, don't get me wrong... when she doesn't want to have her picture taken, she has NO PROBLEM letting you know. And when that happens, you're best off just not even attempting it and just throwing in the towel because it's not going to happen. It's hilarious to me. Sometimes, when she's in the middle of a fit, I'll take her picture anyway just so I can remember these times as well. It's like a breath of fresh air, knowing that it's not always sunshine and rainbows. She has her "dark" side, too.

She's a beautiful baby, though. I'm trying to enjoy her as much as I can now, because I know when hubby comes back from Iraq, it's all over and I'm going to lose her. For at least a few weeks, I know he's not going to want to let her go. And, with a face like that, who would?

What's Really Important.

I just read this blog on msnb.com and it made me feel like sitting on the floor and crying. Although my hubby has less than 2 months overseas, stories like these make me weary, they make 2 months seem like an eternity. They wake you up to the reality that anything can happen at any time, and they're not safe until they get home. It also makes me think about all the wives, husbands, brothers, sisters, moms, dads, sons, daughters, etc. who have to go through this every day. Over 4,000 soldiers have died since March 2003. At the very least, that many people have had to suffer the pain of hearing those news, seeing that coffin, knowing they'll never get to see, hold, smell, talk to their husband, wife, son, daughter, mom, dad, etc. again. I can't even fathom it. It gives me goosebumps. I can't even think about it.

Here's the story: http://fieldnotes.msnbc.msn.com/archive/2009/04/08/1885755.aspx

Soon...

so... the hubby is coming home soon. There's a sense in me of excitement, anxiety, nerves and fear all at once. I can't wait for him to come home because he hasn't seen our baby since she was 5 weeks old and I want to see the look on his face when he sees how big she's gotten and she flashes him that million-dollar smile of hers. I'm equally interested in seeing her reaction when she actually gets to see him in person for the first time in 7 months. She constantly looks at the wallpaper on my computer and I sit with her and tell her, "That's right, mama, that's DADDY!!!" On the rare opportunity that our schedules align long enough for us to have a conversation on Skype, she sits in front of the computer monitor, studying him. Then, in what can only be described as a sudden moment of realization, she remembers this person who held her non-stop for the 10 too-short-and-too-quickly-gone days that they spent together back in October and... oh, there's that smile again! Sometimes I leave the room and leave the two of them there to share some daddy-Marley time and she'll honestly have whole conversations with him. The entirety of which I imagine consist of her venting her frustrations to him on how mommy takes too long getting the milk ready. But I long for the moments when I'll be able to step back and actually watch them interact with each other. I am looking forward to helping these two people who rarely know each other bond. It's inevitable that I will eventually fall by the wayside of the father-daughter/daddy's-little-girl relationship. But that's okay. I'm still mommy. And she and I have had our time together on our own. Soon, it'll be daddy's turn. I'll be home the 2 weeks after he gets back to spend time with my husband and daughter and learn, finally, how to be a family... the three of us. But then, I go back to work, and he has 90 days before he has to... so that will be HIS time. I can't wait.

Of Illness...

I always knew motherhood was going to be hard. I mean, of course, we always think about how great, fulfilling and joyful it's all going to be, but we often conveniently skip over the part where we think about how hard it is. Of course, I think every one has their pregnancy oh-my-God-how-am-I-ever-going-to-manage-this freak outs, but that's now what I'm referring to... let me explain. My baby was born premature because of complications during my pregnancy. In vitro, the doctors found she had hydronephrosis in one of her kidneys. When she was born, they didn't know if her lungs would be able to handle it. By the grace of God, she was born without incident and is now the record-holder for most smiles in a lifetime. :) I kid (although I'm sure she's VERY close). Since she was born in September, she's been sick 4 times. UTI in December, RSV in January, cold/cough in February and ear infection (resulting from the cold/cough) just this week, which resulted in a ruptured ear drum. (sigh). I remember when she got her first fever (103.3! She never does anything small!), I cried the whole way to the urgent care center. When she was diagnosed with RSV, I cried having to see her with a mask over her face when she had her breathing treatments. When her eardrum ruptured, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Being a mom is tough... but being a mom to a sick baby is double-tough. Your mind, heart and your entire body hurts for them. You know there's nothing you can do for them, but wonder incessantly nonetheless, thinking, "What can I do?!" And you sit there, holding them while they cry, sleep, eat, etc. and you live for nothing else but them at that moment.

Fortunately, my baby's hydronephrosis has not been of much discomfort for her, with the exception of having to see the urologist every 3 months and the occasional test of her kidney function. Sometimes, after she's recovered from whatever ails her, I sit and think of all the mothers of sick babies out there. The ones who have so much more to deal with than a cold, or a UTI, or even RSV. The ones for whom the feeling of hopelessness in not being able to cure them is not something they endure for a day, week, or month. I feel for them, and for their babies. I could never possibly begin to comprehend their plight. And I applaud them for their strength and endurance and their sacrifice.

Okay, I'm done... before I start crying.

Shake and Rattle... no Roll.

My baby refuses to roll over. It's aggravating. She's six months old. It's not that she can't... I've seen it. I lay her down, leave the room, she gets upset and starts screaming at the top of her lungs. If I'm gone long enough, she'll get mad enough that (I'm guessing) she thinks to herself, "I'm getting out of this place!" and proceeds to start to roll. She makes it onto her side then gets more frustrated at what I can only assume is the fact that she has to go through all this in the first place, and just gives up. But she won't roll! I'm not concerned about her developmentally, I mean she is right there with her peers on everything else and even more advanced in some areas. But the lack of rolling is... argh. I'm at a loss. She has tummy time every day. She hates it. It's like, by refusing to roll, she's rebelling against the establishment that says she has to spend time on her tummy every day. When I put her on her tummy, I can't help but laugh as she lays there in the "front leaning rest" position, and looks up at me, as if saying, "Why are you submitting me to such torture?" I can't help but smile and yet, wonder. Why does she hate it so much? Will my baby be one of those children that goes from 0 to 60 in no time? Will she all of a sudden one day just get up and take off walking? Because without the whole rolling thing, I don't have much hope for the crawling thing either. I think she's too impatient for that. :) But I guess we'll have to see. In the meantime, I'll have to hold my tongue and try my hardest not to hate those mothers whose babies are merrily rolling away.